Ten miles from the old oak and Clem, we reached a series of switchbacks which led up to the manor. After dispatching some guards (and picking up a new piece of armor for yours truly), we proceeded to the mill in the rear of the property. There we found a rickety-stair trap and a storage house full of rats. I took their skins and some organs for ritual components.

I woke to discover the High Council stuck a letter in my spellbook (love that trick), calling me to their tent. Elzuun should be there…

Spendeltar is still drinking, and also seems to have received a note.

I’ve been sent on a year of sabbatical? Then I am to return to an Arcanum in a human city. Received a scrollcase with letter of recommendation.

Chased a kidnapper, burned a tent, and got run out of town.

Ran into old Clem in the woods. Found out we were being framed for starting a war. Turns out a rich guy came into town to hire kidnappers. Holed up in a manor home or a mill by the stronghold. Guesses that the boy is in the manor home.

After arriving in Ratass, Spendeltar had a hankering for some type of gourd-confection. Mid-purchase, the boy selling the gourds was dragged away by a wolf. Spendeltar, some half-elf farmer, and I chased it into a thicket where three goblins lay in wait. After slaying the pathetic goblins and taking their pathetic possessions, we returned the boy to his father. The half-elf turned out to be a warrior named Jenni (this might change?). We were awarded gourds and huge pumpkins as a thank-you, which seemed ludicrous, until a local baker transformed the pumpkins into pies. A lovely idea, I must admit. I will commit the taste to memory. Adding a hint of pumpkin to any beer entices me.

The baker also crafted Spendeltar’s precious gourdcicle or whatever it was called. Now we may have time for a few hours’ rest before the evening’s festivities.